His voice, deep and magnetic, was extremely pleasant.
Her ears tingled, and her face flushed.
Because, just as he was looking at her, she was looking at him too. That handsome face was stunning to the point of being deadly, yet his entire demeanor exuded a sense of abstinence, a coldness that made people shy away.
Eva Nightingale almost fell into his deep eyes, dazed for a moment.
"Come here, be good."
He was always so patient, extending his long arm, signaling her to come into his embrace.
Eva obediently walked over.
For some reason, knowing he was the President made her heart skip a beat...
This cold, icy man, was he the same man from last night... who had tossed her around in bed?
Last night, he didn’t seem so cold, had she hallucinated? Certainly, last night’s him was incredibly domineering, not giving her any chance to resist before doing those unspeakable things to her...
Before she could react, she was pulled into his embrace, seated on his lap, without any hesitation.
The bodyguards around widened their eyes!
The President! Wasn’t the President seriously injured? How could he hold someone like that, wasn’t he afraid of reopening his wounds?
What if his wounds reopened, the consequences would be unimaginable, but they were helpless, not daring to step forward to speak.
They could only shut their mouths and lower their heads.
Lucas Knight still seemed dissatisfied, throwing a cold glance at the group, startling them.
Then, clearly, the master’s intent was for them to leave.
The people hesitated for a moment, then retreated quietly.
The grand luxury dining room only had two people left.
Instantly, the entire dining room felt cramped.
Eva felt as if she was sitting on a ’stick’, scared, she hurried to escape.
"Mr. President, I’m sorry... I..."
She found the thing terrifying and tried to keep as much distance as possible.
He smirked, looking at her, her face was impossibly red, why? It’s not like she hadn’t seen...
It’s not like she hadn’t seen his treasure.
Why was she so afraid now?
Would he eat someone?
He wouldn’t eat someone.
Little thing, why was she avoiding?
His tightly knitted brows relaxed significantly, for reasons unknown, seeing her made his heart feel comfortable, and he felt that he could never view her enough.
He smirked, "Baby, sit properly, it’s time to eat."
Last night she’d clung to his waist relentlessly, now she must be hungry, right?
He personally served her, filling her bowl with soup, then, in a cool yet slightly domineering manner, said to her, "Baby, eat more."
His voice was very compelling, deep and magnetic.
"There’s an heir of mine in your belly, no picky eating allowed, got it?"
These dishes are carefully prepared by his people, they are the best for pregnant women, she couldn’t pick and choose, otherwise what would happen if she’s malnourished?
Eva sat, picked up the bowl, and drank a few sips of the soup, it was delicious.
Why was this unfamiliar man treating her so well?
Was it really just because they spent a night together?
Moreover, he said she was pregnant with his child? Was it really his?
She remembered only being with Carla Carr before.
"Be good." He interrupted her, "It’s time to change how you address me."
For some reason, him hearing her call him Mr. President made his heart ache.